I know I should know this, but what is the story with Bloody Mary and the mirror?

You stand in front of a mirror in a dark room (sometimes at a certain time) and chant "Bloody Mary" a certain amount (it varies) and supposedly she'll come through the mirror-either you'll see her, she'll grab you etc.

If you google "Bloody Mary" you'll find many legends on her. She's a bit like la Llorna (I think that's spelled right.) Also a bit like the Candyman (from the movies.)

Late night - I am in bed, when someTHING yells in my ear. I can't make out words but it had the same intensity as if you yelled "murderer" in someones face.

Now at the time I was just getting back into "touch" with the astral side of my being. (I had locked off a good protion of myself after a musuem encouter - will tell that one next) I pulled up the "white light" into a ball and "threw" it at the source of the "voice"

In the space of that second my heartrate went from a "billion beats a minuite" to normal. and the smothering feeling fell away.

I am not sure just what made it past the protection of all the ash trees in the yard (I had tried to "link" them into a circle, and was told by friends that our house had the most peacefull vibe ever) I am still surprised that there isn't a real burn mark on the closet door....

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Ok - the museum story

1977 - Chicago Field Musuem - King Tut Exibit

First item on the "tour" was a carved wooden head of the "Boy King" huge crack down one side.

I saw it fresh and new laying in my hands, but they wern't "MY" hands. The hands I saw were larger, darker, older, and "worn". I KNEW that they were the craftsman's hands that first carved and painted the head, and somehow I also KNEW that they WERE my hands.

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OK - Bad memory/good memory time

The night that my Mother died. I was holding her up in bed so that she could breath easier.

Her last words were "Let me go" I looked up and saw Daddy come to get her.

One that I rarely tell.As a small child, I lived in a trailer court. There was a wooded area with a creek that ran behind the trailer court, that I could easily get to from my yard. From as early as I can remember to about 6, I would go and sit on the bridge over the creek when I was upset. There was a woman, with damp clothes and green hair, who would always come and sit next to me. She would sometimes talk about her daughter, how much she missed her daughter, and how much I reminded her of her daughter. She would also talk to me when I was upset because things at home weren't great, or someone was making fun of me, or whatever else troubled a small me. Sometimes I would have dreams where she was looking for something, and she could never find it. Sometimes I would have dreams where we were talking, but we would be under the water.One day, she stopped visiting me, on the bridge, and I stopped dreaming about her. I went home, crying, and told my mom that the lady at the bridge stopped being my friend. Mom sat me down, asked a lot of questions, made a lot of calls, and told me that she had to go home to her daughter, and everything was fine.When I got older, mom asked me if I remembered. I told her that of course I did.Mom pulled out this old folder of old newspaper clippings. The top picture was of the woman and a little girl, probably about 4. They lived in teh trailer court a few years before my mom moved in, they went missing. A few days after they went missing, the woman was found drowned in teh creek. The hadn't found the daughter. About the time that I told my mom the woman quit visiting with me, the woman's parent identified a body that was found on the woman's ex boyfriends out of state property of being the woman's daughter.

That was the point that my mom believed I was a special, if not wierd, child.

All of my boys have conversations with empty rooms. Oldest can describe every close relative who passed before he was born, right down to their scent.

I will post more later, as I need to head out for a bit.

Oh wow.

I'm sure this isn't appropriate, considering the circumstances that bought her to you, but this struck me as a really beautiful story.

Now that I am older, I think she came to me because I comforted her, reminding her of her daughter. She only left when she was able to be with her girl.

I have no experiences as scary as most of the ones told here. But at my old house, where my parents still live, I used to stand at the bathroom sink (while cleaning my teeth, doing hair etc) and I used to catch something peering around the bathroom door out of the corner of my eye. I'd whip around to look at it, and it would disappear in a fraction of a second. I could never make out shape, form, or anything, all I ever got was that it was small (came up to about halfway up the door), and darkish coloured. It could may well have been a trick of the light or something like that (nothing else unexplainable ever happened in that house), but it happened fairly often, and at different times of the day.

I was never scared, I just wanted to know what it was! Doesn't happen where I'm living now.

I have no experiences as scary as most of the ones told here. But at my old house, where my parents still live, I used to stand at the bathroom sink (while cleaning my teeth, doing hair etc) and I used to catch something peering around the bathroom door out of the corner of my eye. I'd whip around to look at it, and it would disappear in a fraction of a second. I could never make out shape, form, or anything, all I ever got was that it was small (came up to about halfway up the door), and darkish coloured. It could may well have been a trick of the light or something like that (nothing else unexplainable ever happened in that house), but it happened fairly often, and at different times of the day.

I was never scared, I just wanted to know what it was! Doesn't happen where I'm living now.

I forgot to post this last night, but I told my aunt about what happened the other day with my headband. Immediately, without any prompting from me, she said, "That was Mima [the nickname we used for my grandma]. She knew it was driving you crazy and she put it where you'd find it. I know; she's done it for me, too."

She also told me that a few days ago, my mom put up a picture of my grandma and grandpa (note: I haven't had the opportunity to ask my mom about this yet. Verification to come later) in a frame. I'm not sure which picture of them it was (there are several throughout our house), or what frame it was in, but apparently sometime later my mom found the frame face-down and the picture lying next to the frame.

Like I said, my mom hasn't mentioned anything to me about this, and I'm pretty sure it didn't happen while I was in the house; she would surely have asked me about it. But even if I'd been here when it happened, what cause would I have to do something like that?

I forgot to post this last night, but I told my aunt about what happened the other day with my headband. Immediately, without any prompting from me, she said, "That was Mima [the nickname we used for my grandma]. She knew it was driving you crazy and she put it where you'd find it. I know; she's done it for me, too."

She also told me that a few days ago, my mom put up a picture of my grandma and grandpa (note: I haven't had the opportunity to ask my mom about this yet. Verification to come later) in a frame. I'm not sure which picture of them it was (there are several throughout our house), or what frame it was in, but apparently sometime later my mom found the frame face-down and the picture lying next to the frame.

Like I said, my mom hasn't mentioned anything to me about this, and I'm pretty sure it didn't happen while I was in the house; she would surely have asked me about it. But even if I'd been here when it happened, what cause would I have to do something like that?

Well, if you did it, you would have had the same motivation as whoever did do it. They didn't like the frame, or they didn't like the picture.

I forgot to post this last night, but I told my aunt about what happened the other day with my headband. Immediately, without any prompting from me, she said, "That was Mima [the nickname we used for my grandma]. She knew it was driving you crazy and she put it where you'd find it. I know; she's done it for me, too."

She also told me that a few days ago, my mom put up a picture of my grandma and grandpa (note: I haven't had the opportunity to ask my mom about this yet. Verification to come later) in a frame. I'm not sure which picture of them it was (there are several throughout our house), or what frame it was in, but apparently sometime later my mom found the frame face-down and the picture lying next to the frame.

Like I said, my mom hasn't mentioned anything to me about this, and I'm pretty sure it didn't happen while I was in the house; she would surely have asked me about it. But even if I'd been here when it happened, what cause would I have to do something like that?

Well, if you did it, you would have had the same motivation as whoever did do it. They didn't like the frame, or they didn't like the picture.

I'm not in the habit of removing the pictures someone else puts up. I'm thinking it was grandma, and she probably didn't like the frame, or it would have been the picture that was face-down.

I'm going off on a total tangent here, but I just remembered something else weird about a picture of someone who died a long time ago. My aunt's friend Carmen has been a longtime friend of the family; she's almost like another one of my aunts (in fact, I used to call her "Auntie Carmen" when I was little). She lost her mother to cancer when I was about 7.

Carmen and all her sisters (she has four sisters, and five brothers - HUGE family) have the same picture of their mother. In it, she's outside her house, in broad daylight, wearing a black or navy blue dress. One day, close to the anniversary of her death, one of the sisters noticed a narrow, vertical white stripe about a half-inch long on the picture where none had been before, directly over her mother's heart. She shrugged it off as just a dust mote and went on her merry way.

As the days crept nearer to the date of her mother's death, she talked to another one of her sisters, who mentioned a little white spot on "Mom's picture," and described it as being exactly in the same spot as the one the first sister had discovered. Mind you, these are two copies of a picture, in two different homes, in cities several miles apart. The first sister noticed that the little white stripe had begun to take on a bit of a weird blur at the very top of the stripe, one that looked distinctly like a candle flame. She remarked on this to her other sister, who looked at the picture in her home - it had the same thing.

Eventually, all five sisters talked to each other and discovered, on the date of the anniversary, that all five sisters had had the same thing happen - something like a candle had appeared over their mother's heart in each of the five copies of the picture. Eventually, it faded, but now, every year around the time of her death, it comes back. I've seen this picture several times, both around the time of the mother's death and at other times, and I can verify this. When it's not close to that date, her dress is solid black (or maybe navy blue; the picture's from the '70s, so it's a little reddish and faded, and it's hard to tell what color the dress really was). When it's close to the anniversary of her death, there's always a little white spot, that looks like a tiny, tiny candle, right over her heart.

I've been following this thread for days, but didn't quite know where or how to put in my experiences regarding the paranormal, so to speak. There are certain women in my family that have a touch of "something" in them. With some, it's like they are mediums or conduits from this world to the next. With some, it's true future predictions. With others, they can see "dead people." I have a little bit of it. My mother has a little bit of this. Some of my cousins and one other aunt I know has this. Not every female in my family has it. My sister doesn't, but I think my niece, her daughter does.

My niece, who is 6, used to have conversations with other little kids who simply were not there. She always been a very verbal child and every since she was able to, she has communicated with her "friends" who she swears on not imaginary. One child is the spitting image of a brother of my mother who died when he was very young, 4 yrs old, from pneumonia in another country. She has described him down to the color of his eyes and hair. Very weird.

My grandmother used to be able to predict the sex of any child before birth. She would literally just look at a pregnant woman, and know the sex of the child. In one case, she broke out into tears because she couldn't "see" the sex of the child and warned the mother to be careful. Sadly, the child was stillborn and extremely malformed. The doctor could not visibly determine which sex the child was. Evidently, this predictive ability changed when my niece (see above) was born. She insisted up and down that my sister was pregnant with a boy. I just shrugged and knew that my sister was going to give birth to a girl. Everyone told me I was wrong. The sonogram technician told her and she was 70-80% sure she was having a boy. Bleh. At her birth, I was really the only surprised that my niece was indeed a niece.

As far as mirrors are concerned....I also too think they are windows to something and somewhere. However, I have no problems with them, and I'm not too terribly scared of them. That being said, there are some mirrors that I don't like looking into. Strangely, there's a mirror in the bathroom of the mall that I go to that TERRIFIES me. There's nothing special about it. It's in a mall bathroom. I hate that mirror and I always feel as though something is going to pull me through it and I won't be able to get back to "my world." I hope that doesn't sound too weird.....

My father is very 'psychically' sensitive. He used to have many prophetic dreams, but always about the most mundane things. He was very put off that he could never dream winning lottery numbers or the like.Sometimes though, his dreams reveal other things.My father was dreaming that he was sleeping on the couch, which he actually was at that time, the time was 2:45AM on the clock. The door opened and his friend's wife came in. She went up to him, smiled, and said 'Thank you for being my friend. Please look after my husband.' Then turned around and left.When he woke up the next day, the phone was ringing. It was his friend, crying that his wife had died at 2:45AM that morning.Another time, he was dreaming again that he was going through old photos of when my parents first arrived in Canada and my adopted grandmother had helped them greatly. As a term of respect, they told us children to call her 'grandmother.' Well in his dream, a photo dropped out of the pile and landed directly on his lap. It was a photo of her, the first one we ever took of her at after my parents brought me home from the hospital. He woke up, thinking about her, and called her family to talk to her. She had died in the night.After I was older, he claimed I 'sucked' his powers from him, since I was the one having the dreams now.And I gotta say, they ARE about the most mundane things possible! I can tell you if I will be in a traffic jam, when my socks will develop holes, the exact time I will be pulling out a pan to cook something, or whether or not that pan will fall out of the cupboard onto the floor at least 2 days before it happens!I have had one dream which will be a beautiful one. It was so very real I remember it now, and it's been nearly 10 years. I can remember every smell and sound and we are all waiting anxiously for this one to come about.I was visiting my brother in a beautiful house on a beach during a fabulous party. My brother was out back by the ocean and I saw him from a window. He was playing with 3 dogs, a big German Shepherd, a big collie, and a small yellow dog. As I watched, he threw a stick into the water and the dogs all ran into the water, and the little one got the stick and ran away from the 2 big dogs with his prize. My brother laughed and laughed, looked up and waved at me, yelling 'They're in the bedroom.' I can still smell the salty sea smell even now and hear the dogs barking happily at each other. I walked into a bedroom with my mother to see my dream SIL and her baby! My dream SIL had black, short choppy hair. But the baby girl! What a beauty. She had very light brown hair with golden highlights (We are Asian, but my father, sister, and I were all blondes when we were born) which had soft curls. The hair was shoulder length and she has bangs. Her eyes were huge and light brown. She had the chubbiest little cheeks and a light yellow sweater dress. Her skin was a honey colour. She actually looked somewhat like baby pictures of me, but with lighter hair and a lighter skin tone. She smelled like baby and peaches. I descibed it all to my mother and brother. My mother cried and said it sounded all so happy she couldn't wait. My brother laughed and said yeah right. He married a Caucasian with long blond hair and teased me about my false dream, until he saw pictures of her at about the time I had my dream. Yep, at that time I had my dream, she'd dyed her hair black and had it in a choppy shorter cut. I didn't recognize her since her hair was different and I was fixated on my dream niece. This dream is now very important to us, since we learned in the last year that my brother and I have a genetic mutation and may not be able to have children at all.But, my SIL is pregnant right now after many miscarriages and the doctors say everything looks great. They do not want to find out if the baby will be a boy or a girl.If it is a girl, I am buying her a yellow dress.

To all the PPs who have remarked on people in their families with a certain sensitivity to otherworldly things or supernatural abilities, I find it interesting that it's almost always the females in the family who seem to possess this.

In my family, there's a marked sensitivity to these things among the females as well. Both of my mom's sisters, and my mom herself, have this to some degree. My mom has an uncanny ability to "see" the future, or to predict the outcome of almost any given situation. Part of it is her keen sense of observation, but there's a definite element of "the otherworldly" to some of her predictions.

I'm pretty sensitive to ghosts and spirits, and have often had spirits "attach" themselves to me. My grandmother (the same one who I'm sure is watching over me now, although she's been gone from this world for six months) lived in a haunted house for many years, and even when I wasn't in that particular house (for example, when I was in college, hundreds of miles away), things happened to me that had no "normal" explanation, and at times, I had the sense of a very familiar "presence" in the same room with me when I was ostensibly alone, one that I'd felt at my grandparents' house.

I've never checked with any of my female cousins about if they'd ever seen or felt anything. They don't seem to be particularly sensitive to the otherworldly, though. I think I'm the most "in tune" with that out of my cousins because I don't put much stock in the material (especially in material possessions, which they are obsessed with).

One of BF's exGF used to buy pendants of "idols" (different Buddhas and gods), wear them, pray to them, then subsequently toss them aside for another. (Which from what I understand is a no-no because they get upset as it is considered disrespectful.)

I almost forgot about this post, but I think I know where her tossed aside idols ended up.I was at the university looking at some very nice wooden bracelets an this kiosk. He also sold some small metal Buddhas and the like. He had a sign advertising these as 'Good Luck Buddhas.'As I was looking, I saw 2 of my friends come around a corner. They stopped dead when they saw me perusing the kiosk and screamed 'BLUEBERRY, NO!' in literally one vioce. They ran over, grabbed me, and carried me away as the kiosk guy yelled at them (I am a very small Asian girl. One of them was a big soccer player guy and the other a tall, very athletic girl, so I was easily lifted up between the 2 of them.)When they finally put me down, after much protesting and amused bystanders, we were pretty far from the kiosk and in a completely different part of the campus.Then they proceeded to tell me about the Buddhas.Last month, while looking at that exact same kiosk, they decided to buy Good Luck Buddhas for gifts for each other. They each put their new Buddhas into their respective backpacks and went merrily away.And it all went to heck.The guy's car was broken into, and his radio stolen. She sprained an ankle getting up from a couch. They failed their midterms. Then one of them got the stomach flu. The other one got food poisoning. They both felt a general feeling of malaise constantly and everything was going wrong. Most terrifying, was suddenly this creepy old man with no legs in a wheelchair starting following them around. It was only when they were together that he appeared, and not when they were apart. He would appear to them when there was no route for a wheelchair to have access. They could constantly hear a SQUEEEAKKK from his old wheelchair. Now the main thing was only THEY could see and hear him. The rest of us couldn't. They would yell and point 'THERE HE IS! Can't you hear him!?!?' And no one else could.I would have thought they were making this all up, but in the space of 2 weeks, they really did have all those awful things happen. And the rest of us could almost feel an aura of something bad around them. It was just a general feeling of depression, and that there was something wrong, coming off of them, it was weird.Somehow, they traced this to the purchase of the Buddhas. They went back together, and wanted an exchange, something, anything, just for the kiosk guy to take back the Buddhas. He gave them a big grin and said NO REFUNDS OR EXCHANGES.While they are desperately trying to think of something to do, they hear the squeak of the wheelchair and just bolted.They run to their cars and suddenly the old man in the wheelchair is coming around from a nearby parked car. He could not have gotten there that quickly, and how did he know where they were going? She drives to the nearest post office, and tosses the Buddha in this package she was mailing to a friend in Tokyo.He drives to a nearby Buddhist temple, runs in and gives the Buddha to the first person he sees.The old man in the wheelchair disappeared completely after they got rid of the Bad Luck Buddhas.The general feelings of unhappiness disappeared and their bad luck did too.The kiosk guy disappeared soon after they warned me about the Buddhas.